He was a miserable old creature, known as
Miser Jerrold, and he lived alone with his daughter. He had saved a
little money that he kept in a box under his bed. When father got near
the place, he was astonished to see by Pacer's actions that he had been
on this road before, and recently, too. Father is so sharp about horses,
that they never do a thing that he doesn't attach a meaning to. So he
let the reins hang a little loose, and kept his eye on Pacer. The horse
went along the road, and seeing father didn't direct him, turned into
the lane leading to the house. There was an old red gate at the end of
it, and he stopped in front of it, and waited for father to get out.
Then he passed through, and instead of going up to the house, turned
around, and stood with his head toward the road.
"Father never said a word, but he was doing a lot of thinking. He went
into the house, and found the old man sitting over the fire, rubbing his
hands, and half-crying about 'the few poor dollars,' that he said he had
had stolen from him. Father had never seen him before, but he knew he
had the name of being half silly, and question him as much as he liked,
he could make nothing of him.
Pages:
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268